Bombshell
by lizzie056
Summary: How did things change from Smallville to Metropolis? Oneshot.


**A/N:** This story was born in my creative writing class, but it is an idea I have been toying with for quite some time. The basic idea is how everyone goes their separate ways from the Smallville Universe into the Mythos, although this one only deals with Lois' story. I realise that the 'argument' theory has been done before, and no infringement is meant. There are tie-ins to this story and my other fic, 'Vows'.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Smallville Clark would have a fear of shirts, Lana a fear of pink and Lois a fear of rabbits. Alas, it was not to be.

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_Metropolis 2009_

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A face like a goddess; blonde, beautiful, stunning, yet at the same time, powerful beyond the belief, she smiled down at her adoring subjects from her paper podium. Lois looked up at the so-called 'blonde bombshell' as she covered her head with her pretty-newspaper-hat, in a vain attempt to ward off the offending rain. She frowned up at striking image on the poster. The girl, the woman rather, epitomised everything she hated, and at the same time, everything she longed for.

She scowled at the poster and turned away, continuing to walk down the flooded street. The rain water, now warm with the oil that gushed out of the passing cars, invaded her Italian boots and darkened her mood. She stormed across the road, her mind conjuring up images of herself, blonde-haired, scantly clad in a revealing white dress, trying to keep it under control as she stood needless on an open vent, giggling to herself in the air headed way that made men go weak at the knees. And as her mind played over this image, this fantasy, Lois couldn't help but wonder, if perhaps she was that woman, instead of the stubborn, opinionated, sarcastic brunette she was, would she have someone to go home to? Would she have someone to hold her, to comfort her, to love her?

Deprivation her therapist had called it. A lack of adequate emotional care in her youth had left her unwilling to form a secure emotional bond with anyone in her later life. That wasn't entirely true she thought as she stormed down the drowned back streets, wiping the sodden mascara from her cheeks. She had bonded with her cousin, her editor, her co-workers and her friends. It wasn't her fault if every potential male 'attachment figure' turned out to be a complete dick. Take Dan for example, the undercover cop who had conveniently forgot to mention the undercover part or cop part to her until three months into their relationship. He'd made her think he was something he was not, he'd made her fall for a lie, he'd expected her to think nothing of it. He'd been wrong. Lois wasn't going to stand for deceit, not anymore.

She jammed in the entry code for her apartment on the small security grid. The door creaked open and she thundered into the lobby and up the stairs. Outside the sky was as black as her mood. White snakes danced to the music of thunderous drums as tears cried down on the lost city, washing up the filthy and corrupt.

Lois plunged her hand into her drenched handbag and pulled out her keys, turned them swiftly in the lock and staggered into her flat. She cast aside her bag and let her sodden jacket fall to the floor, not bothering to turn on any lights. She stomped into the little kitchen and viciously flicked the switch on her kettle before removing herself to the living area, where she cast herself down on the small settee. Snarling, she tore off her squidgy boots and let her head fall back onto the waiting cushion. She let out an exasperated sigh and turned to look out the window. The storm was still raging, the occasional lightning bolts illuminating her small apartment.

She rolled over to face her answering machine, standing on a small side table. Sighing again she hit the 'play' button. There was nothing on any interest, a message from Perry reminding her that she was to show the new intern Jimmy around tomorrow, Cat wondering what she was doing tonight, Lucy hankering after a loan and her father demanding a reason why she wasn't attending the Thanks Giving Dinner.

"Because I don't fucking want to." Lois sneered at the machine, knowing she wouldn't dare say it to her father's face.

She stumbled off the couch and headed over to her bookshelf. She needed the comfort of the written word. Instinctively she reached for her favourite, 'To Kill A Mocking Bird.' It fell open in her hand to the page she had last read. _Our courts have their faults, as does any human institution, but in this country our courts are the great levellers, and in our courts all men are created equal._

As she turned back to the couch, her gaze fixated on the novel, she felt her elbow brush against something. The following second a crash broke in her ears that was not that of thunder. She glanced quickly down at the shattered remains of a photo frame. Cursing she put back her book and stooped down to clear up the mess. As she carefully brushed aside the shards of glass she noticed for the first time the picture that had been housed in the frame. Three smiley faced stared up at her, one boy and two girls. The first girl had blonde hair, rosy cheeks and had an undeniable sunny disposition. The second girl was a stunner, hazel eyes, shiny dark hair, the sort of girl who could get any guy to do anything for her. The boy wasn't that bad looking himself, Lois had to admit, despite herself, but as far as she was concerned, the less she saw that idiotic grin the better. She picked up the picture and tore it in half, and then did it again, and finally again, then she scattered the eight pieces into her bin, alongside the glass and the broken wood.

She walked over to the French windows and stepped outside onto her balcony. The small piece of concrete was not much, only about three feet by four, but this was her favourite spot in the whole of Metropolis. The rain cascaded down her face and body, causing her skin to shiver and her nose to run. The icy wind bit at her bones, but she wouldn't move, she couldn't. Inside her, her emotions where running amuck and soon she could feel the distinct sensation of warm salt water flowing down her cheeks, a stark contrast to the freezing cold water the covered the rest of her. The faces in the photo plagued her. How could she have ripped up her cousin, her friend? How could she allow herself to have kept the photo in the first place? She already knew the answer to that question; it was a silent reminder.

It had been almost a year now since the incident, but Lois' mind still recalled it as readily as she could quote Shakespeare or Wilde. The irony being, the whole incident revolved around that fact that it was only she who knew she could do this. A little sincerity is a dangerous thing, and a great deal of it, is absolutely fatal.

Through her own folly, Lois had had discerned three re-occurring facts, she was, by some of her friends, deemed uneducated, unambitious and, most hurtful, affectionless. It had been her own folly because she had had the tenacity to tell Clark, during a particularly heated conversation, that if he had a problem with her, he should just get it out in the open. She had never expected him to take her challenge so seriously, and in a matter of moments, between a melancholic array of _ifs_, _buts_ and _ands,_ Lois' and Clark's friendship had deteriorated into nothingness. Clark had even had the good grace to say that if it weren't for Lois' freeloader tendencies she would probably be living out a box by now, _"because you're sure as hell not trying to make anything out of yourself."_ Lois of course gave as good as she got, banners blazing, she protested, she accused. She gave Clark a thousand different reasons why he was so very, very wrong. But in the crevasses of her soul, Lois' mind was telling her something different; Clark's words had cut her so deep, not because they were wrong, but because part of her believed they were right. Clark had, unwittingly, taken all her insecurities and put them out for the whole world to hear, and she loathed him for that.

She had looked to Chloe, her cousin and Lana, her friend, in the hope of finding some support, but none ever came. In the resigned silence there seemed to be an innate understand between the three college seniors that their _uneducated_ friend was destined for a life of serving coffee at the best of times, and prostitution at the worst.

Something inside of Lois broke then, something she felt she'd never be able to fix. She'd lost something she could never replace. The people closest to her looked down their noses at her, they didn't even pity her, they just judged her. In their eyes, she was a no hoper, no matter what they would say to her afterwards. They say real friends stab you in the front, in that case Clark, Chloe and Lana were the best friends Lois had ever had.

And so, Lois ran. She silently turned away, not daring to face any of them, not daring to show any other signs of weakness. She climbed in her car and drove; drove further than she'd ever driven before. She only stopped driving once she saw the sun rising over the Atlantic coast. Her mind was racing, but her stubborn persona kicked in once again. She was not going to be an outcast, a charity case. Her destiny was bigger than Smallville, and her determination to succeed greater than _Smallville's_. She'd prove them wrong, she'd prove the whole damn world wrong. If she didn't have to down play herself, her potential was unlimited.

She'd phoned her cousin from a gas station, explained that Smallville was getting old, that she needed a change of scene and not to worry about her stuff, Chloe could have that. Chloe told her not to go, that none of them had meant any harm. Lois had told Chloe not to worry about it, that it was all okay, really. She just needed a change of scene. Chloe said that was the kind of impulsive thinking that made Lois who she was.

And so, four months later, through sheet grit, endeavour and determination Lois had won herself a post at the famed Daily Planet, a post she had quickly outgrown, going from rookie to top reporter in a mere matter of months. She'd even managed to pick up a few awards.

A flash of lightning awoke Lois from her reminiscence. Shivering, she drew in one final breath of the close storm air, walked back in doors and headed for the bathroom.

When she emerged, snugly wrapped in her dressing gown, she flopped herself down in front of her computer. She started to type thoughtless nothings, when a sudden thought occurred to her. She opened up her e-mails and read the rough draft Chloe had sent her, the new chapter of the book she was writing. Lois smiled as she typed in a few suggestions, she'd always been the one who wanted to be the writer, not that she'd ever told anyone apart from her cousin; movie scripts, she was going to win an Oscar. Of course, Chloe was going to win a Pulitzer, but that task now lay firmly on Lois' shoulders.

She opened up another e-mail. Lana was worried that that one wonderful night with Pete was the reason she was now two months late. Lois replied honestly that even if that was the case, the kid couldn't hope for better parents. That was two down, one to go. Clark and Lois, however, had an unspoken understanding with regards to conversing, namely they didn't. Lois was more than sure Clark knew why she had left, but his inability to even attempt an apology just confirmed the fact that the two of them were best kept at a distance. She hadn't even thought about the small town farm-boy until tonight. The last she'd heard from Chloe Clark was travelling. "Good for him." Had been her reply. "It might give him some greater insight." As long as he didn't turn up in her town, Lois really couldn't care less.

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**A/N2:** Now check out 'Vows'


End file.
